


Butter him Up

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Witcher A/B/O Ficlets [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: He studied him, taking in his cornflower blue eyes, his blonde curls, and the sweet scent of Omega that permeated him. The biggest giveaway of all, though, was that his narrow shoulders were wrapped in a familiar black coat that Eskel recognized as belonging to Geralt. “You must be Dandelion,” he supposed.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher A/B/O Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990090
Comments: 29
Kudos: 360





	1. Chapter 1

No sooner had Eskel sat down with a steaming plate of food then there was a stranger dropping into the chair opposite him. His first thought was that it must be someone with a contract, but then the man reached out and plucked a slice of cheese off his plate.

Eskel blinked.

“You must be Eskel,” chattered the man through a mouthful.

He studied him, taking in his cornflower blue eyes, his blonde curls, and the sweet scent of Omega that permeated him. The biggest giveaway of all, though, was that his narrow shoulders were wrapped in a familiar black coat that Eskel recognized as belonging to Geralt. Under the coat was finely made, silk outfit in that was nearly the same color as his eyes. “You must be Dandelion,” he supposed.

Dandelion purred and swiped more food.

“Is Geralt with you?”

“He’s has a contact on a drowner nest,” said Dandelion. “He ought to be back soon, I suppose, he’s been gone for some time.” The omega pursed his lips, frowning. “In the meantime, I thought I might introduce myself, as, in my experience, Witchers are men of many interesting tales.”

“Have you met many Witchers?”

“No, just Geralt, but I can’t imagine a boring Witcher.”

Eskel finally managed to take a bite of his food, deciding he had better help himself before Dandelion ate it all. _Does Geralt not feed his Omega?_ he wondered, aghast.

“Speaking of Witchering and Geralt in general - or, if you prefer, Geralt and Witchering in General - I’ve a proposition to make.”

Mouth full of food, Eskel could only raise an eyebrow.

“Are you perhaps in search of a companion?”

He frowned and swallowed. “What’s wrong with Geralt?”

“Geralt’s being rude,” the omega explained. “He said that I couldn’t survive without him, so I’ve decided to prove him wrong.”

“By depending on me?” Eskel guessed, hiding a laugh.

“Co-dependency,” argued Dandelion.

“And what do you bring to the table?”

Dandelion flicked him a coin. “Your supper,” he said brightly, standing up and bowing to Eskel cheerfully. “And other things,” he winked, then turned and sauntered away, rocking his hips with every step.

Eskel had to remind himself to close his mouth and not gape.

* * *

He was still in the main room of the inn when Geralt returned, looking no worse for the wear despite having fought drowners. “Wolf!” Eskel shouted as the white haired man surveyed the room.

Geralt’s face lit up at the sight of him. “Eskel!”

Eskel called for more food and vodka for the both of them, inquiring politely about the drowner ( _“Fine,” said Geralt. “I wouldn’t even call it an infestation.”_ )

“What of you?” Geralt asked. “What have you been doing since Winter?”

He saw no reason to beat around the bush. “I think your bard is trying to seduce me.”

“Gods damn it,” Geralt looked around, as though expecting Dandelion to pop out at the mere mention of him. “Where is that Omega, anyway?”

“I believe I saw him leave with the bartender.”

Geralt shook his head and took a long swig of his drink. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he advised. “He’ll fuck anything with a pulse.”

“He claims you’re being rude and controlling.” Eskel tipped his vodka toward Geralt with a laugh.

The white haired Wicher snorted. “I told him he shouldn’t bed married women, or, at the very least, he shouldn’t act surprised when their husbands take offense.”

They fell into other conversations, swapping stories about monsters they had dealt with and people they had met since they’d last seen each other over the winter. Patrons came and went in the bar, but the Witchers paid them no mind. Thankfully, the townsfolk seemed inclined to ignore them.

It was past dusk when Geralt suddenly barked, “Dandelion!”

The bard, who had entered the tavern and seemed to be trying to sneak upstairs without being noticed, froze. Then a smile curled over his face.

“Geralt, you’re back!” Dandelion bounced toward them happily, dropping onto a chair beside Eskel and leaning on his shoulder. He was still wearing Geralt’s jacket, which prompted a grunt from the owner. “Is something wrong with your clothes, bard?”

“This is far more fashionable,” he said, smoothing the overly long sleeves. “I jest, of course, Geralt, we all know that you don’t keep up with the fashions.” He turned to Eskel and explained, “I’ve tried, but he won’t listen.”

“Don’t need fashion to fight drowners.”

“Sorceresses though- OW! Don’t kick me! Eskel, what did I tell you? I need to escape.”

Eskel was too busy hiding his laughter in his vodka.

The door to the tavern open. Dandelion suddenly sprang to his feet. “I’m off to bed,” he said, doing his best to hide behind his lute as he slipped toward the stairs. Geralt’s vodka was clasped in his hand. “Goodnight Geralt!”

“Must be his lover’s husband,” Geralt said, glancing at the newcomer and shaking his head.

“He certainly is… different.”

“Hmm. You’re being polite.”

“He is yours, after all.”

“Mine?” Geralt snorted. “Don’t kid yourself, Eskel. Dandelion belongs to only one person, himself. While we’re on the subject, I ought to warn you, unless you give him a very firm no he will continue to pursue you, now that he’s set his eyes on you. He understands consent well enough, but he won’t take a subtle hint.”

“You never know,” Eskel mused. “I might take him up on his offer.”

Geralt shrugged and took a bite from his food, then reached for his vodka, only to realize it was missing. “I’m going to thrash him.”

“Careful,” warned Eskel. “He might like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dandelion's new goal: fuck all of the WItchers


	2. Chapter 2

Eskel ducked up to his rented room, fully intending to have a good night’s rest and then escape both Geralt and his strange Omega. Unfortunately, the universe (or, in this case, just the Omega) seemed to have other plans.

“Have you given any more thought to my proposal?” Dandelion was sitting on Eskel’s bed, his cornflower blue eyes gleaming in the dark. Even without any lights Eskel could see the shape of his body quite clearly, specifically the fact that he appeared to be wrapped in a silk shawl and nothing else.

“I have,” said Eskel, making a point not to stare at him any longer. The room was barely large enough for the bed, leaving Eskel to have to squeeze by to the dresser where he laid his swords.

“And?” Dandelion scooted closer, bringing with him the scent of cornflowers and chamomile. And want.

He nearly overwhelmed Eskel in the confined space, leaving him desperate to either escape or bury himself in it. He kept telling himself that it probably wasn’t a good idea to fuck his best friend’s Omega, but then again, both Dandelion and Geralt had made it crystal clear that Dandelion slept around as he pleased.

“I think Geralt would be rather hurt if you left him.”

“Nonsense,” sniffed Dandelion, his scent taking on a sour smell of displeasure. “He left me for that sorceress whore.”

Eskel cocked his head, recalling the sorceress that Geralt had mentioned the previous winter. _Yennefer was it?_ he thought. It seemed the bard wasn’t overly fond of her.

“So this is revenge?” asked Eskel with amusement, shrugging off his heavy leather jacket and dropping it on the dresser.

“You could say that,” sighed Dandelion, leaning back against the headboard and stretching. Eskel kept his eyes glued to the man’s face, intentionally not looking down at his soft pink cock. For fucks sake, he was _shaved_ , who did that? “Although it’s more of a lesson really, that he shouldn’t run off without me.”

“Did you not just fuck the bartender?”

“Yes, but I came back, didn’t I? I didn’t run off to another town with barely a word of farewell, leaving him alone and confused.”

 _Oh, that explained it_. Geralt must have left with Yennefer without giving Dandelion a ‘proper farewell’ (whatever that meant to the Omega). “Have you explained this to him?” Eskel sat on the edge of the bed, making a point to keep space between himself and the Omega.

“Whenever I mention Yennefer he tells me I’m being rude and inconsiderate.”

Eskel assumed Dandelion probably started the conversation by calling her a whore, which probably would make Geralt less inclined to listen to him. “You need to talk to Geralt.”

Dandelion sighed dramatically, draping his legs over Eskel’s lap. “I’d rather show him how it feels,” he said.

The Witcher was finding it less and less easy to fend off his advances. “You can’t leave with me,” he said finally.

“Gods you’re a prick,” sighed the Omega, although, Eskel noted with amusement that he didn’t seem truly upset. Perhaps he didn’t want to leave Geralt so much as just have someone listen to his complaints. He made a mental note to tell Geralt what the man had said, or at least tell him to hear him out. Dandelion deserved that much, and he doubted that Geralt had intentionally hurt his feelings.

“Will you at least fuck me since I dragged myself all the way down here?”

Eskel turned to study him. Dandelion was staring at him coyly, his eyes glittering, and twirling a ringlet around his finger. He raised an eyebrow and tossed his head slightly as his eyes met Eskel’s.

The Witcher couldn’t actually think of a reason to turn him down. He was pretty, willing, and kind. Given his relationship with Geralt it was highly doubtful he would have anything rude to say about Witchers or chicken out halfway through as sometimes happened. Geralt clearly didn’t mind who he slept with - when Eskel had headed upstairs he’d chuckled and told him to enjoy himself, leading Eskel to wonder if Geralt had suspected that Dandelion would be waiting for him.

“What do you like?”

“Oooh!” said the bard. “A gentleman.” He was suddenly in Eskel’s lap, tangling his hands in the man’s dark hair, smiling at him. There was nothing forced about him, he didn’t act like a whore who had been paid to sit there and look pretty, there was no underlying scent of displeasure or disgust. He was simply happy to be where he was, happy to spend time with Eskel.

Dandelion leaned to kiss him, but Eskel caught his face in his hands, squeezing his cheeks gently.“Answer the question.”

“Anything you like.”

“Suck my cock.” He was half kidding, but Dandelion slid off the bed happily, landing on his knees in front of Eskel, unbuttoning his pants. Eskel was only half hard, but that didn’t stop Dandelion and he swallowed him down without complaint.

He dug his fingers into the mattress as Dandelion pleasured him, his head rolling back and his eyes closing. _Gods Geralt, you’re spoiled if you leave this willingly_ , he thought. The bard’s tongue incredibly skilled, and he didn’t gag or seem at all bothered by Eskel’s size. “If you don’t stop that,” he warned, “I’ll be too spent to fuck you properly.”

Dandelion pulled back quickly, saliva and precum dribbling from his plump lips. Eskel hauled him up into his arms. There seemed to be no point in removing the rest of his clothes, so with little warning he plopped Dandelion onto his cock.

The bard whined as his hole stretched to accommodate Eskel, burying his face in the Witcher’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he moaned. Eskel held his hips, helping to guide him into a steady rhythm as he lifted himself up, then lowered back down. Dandelion quickly took the lead, moving his hips in a strange pattern, enough to keep Eskel on edge.

“I sucked you off, so you’d better knot me,” said the Omega.

Eskel chuckled, pushing his fingers against Dandelion’s lips. The bard opened his mouth and began to suck on them happily. “You’re a spoiled little thing, aren’t you?”

Dandelion preened.

He curled his fingers, pressing on Dandelion’s tongue. “I can tell you’re used to getting exactly what you want.” Vaguely he wondered how Dandelion would handle Lambert, who delighted in doing the exact opposite of what he thought his partners wanted most. Nothing non-consensual, just trying to annoy them. 

Eskel removed his hand from Dandelion’s mouth, moving instead to rub his back as the Omega continued to fuck himself on the Witcher’s cock. He found mottled bruises, warm to the touch, and even in the low light he recognized Geralt’s handiwork. They were close together, but carefully spaced, never overlapping. None of them had welted or broken skin. All in all, it was uncomfortable, but neither cruel nor dangerous and would fade quickly. Eskel estimated them to be no more than 24 hours old, meaning he had probably gotten them the night before when they’d arrived at the inn.

“Geralt take his belt to you often?” he asked with amusement.

“I told you he’s cruel to me,” sniffled the bard.

Eskel chuckled. “What did you do?”

“I was in a bar fight,” he grumbled.

Eskel wasn’t surprised that had earned him a punishment from Geralt. For all his complaints about Dandelion it was clear that he cared deeply and wouldn’t want the man to endanger himself. He dug his nails into a bruise and Dandelion groaned and clenched his ass.

“Do it again,” moaned the bard.

Eskel pinched his tender flesh, then stroked over the bruise gently. Dandelion whined and pushed back against him, pleading desperately for more while at the same time continuing to fuck himself on Eskel’s cock.

Continuing to scratch at his bruises with one hand, Eskel slid his other between their bodies, taking ahold of Dandelion’s cock and beginning to stroke him gently.

The bard buried his face in Eskel’s shoulder, groaning loudly.

It didn’t take long for Dandelion’s cock to be leaking, and he spilled across Eskel’s hand with a sob. His ass clenched as he orgasmed and Eskel followed soon after, his knot forming hard and fast, locking inside Dandelion.

“Oh that hurts,” moaned the bard, tipping his head back. “Oh I like this.”

Eskel snorted and ruffled his hair, then inched back across the bed until he was leaned against the headboard, carefully pulling Dandelion with him. The Omega curled into him happily, beginning to purr as Eskel played with his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider…. Dandelion wintering in Kaer Morhen. #FuckAllTheWolves


End file.
